Picture Perfect
by ofb29
Summary: Grissom sees something in a photo
1. reflected in his eyes

Picture Perfect

By Ria

Grissom rued the day that he had agreed to sell his old digital camera to Greg. Ever since, various pictures had been appearing, both via the intranet email system, and pinned to notice boards. 

Everyone had fallen victim, caught going around their usual duties. More than one person had threatened to shove the camera where the sun didn't shine if he didn't destroy the pictures. Catherine had been the first, caught mid shout looking a lot like she had a trout pout. Shouting at him, Grissom remembered. Bobbie, gun in hand, looking like he was about to shoot Archie. Greg certainly could twist angles and dimensions to make a simple picture look so much worse.

Impromptu poses were Greg's forte. One of him, for example, had recently been pinned to the board in the break room, studying his pet tarantula. Even he had to admit it was a good photo of the spider.

A new one resided on the notice board now. A simple portrait; two people caught in the middle of an intense discussion, in one of the labs. Off the cuff, it looked just that, like two colleagues talking work. 

That wasn't the reason that Grissom had stood here looking at it for the last fifteen minutes, though. For one thing, Greg had certainly caught the female subject in the photo in her best light. It was how Grissom would always remember Sara; the serious look of the investigator, going over evidence, reaching conclusions or getting frustrated. It was a look he remembered on her from college. Back when she had been a young grad student, hanging on his every word. The one that told him that out of the group of people who had turned up for his lecture this girl meant business. 

Being quizzed by her afterwards, his lecture being pulled apart in front of his eyes had both amazed and astounded him, his first glimpse into her beauty. Because she had become the definition of beautiful for him. It was a look he was reminded of often: The serious, no nonsense girl, intelligent, picking part a piece of evidence or a suspect's alibi. Even now he thought of her as beautiful.

The man in the photo was clearly listening to whatever Sara was talking about. Hanging on her every word could have been coined just for the expression on his face. Intensity burned in his eyes, the photo capturing a time in the two people's lives that existed just with them in it.

It wasn't that part of the photo that had him unsettled, though. Two colleagues working closely together: that was how the results they got kept flowing in the first place. No, there was one part of the photo that had caught his eye straight away. He couldn't identify what, exactly, it was about Sara's eyes that had caught his eye. It had picked at him, as he had stood staring, there in his grasp, but just out of sight. It had come to him in a flash as he had turned to walk away. The look, a look he was so familiar with, because at one time Sara had looked at him with that exact expression in her eyes.

It was a look he had thought was just Sara. At first. It had taken him a while to realise what the look was. It was a subtle, like Sara herself, hidden away, but there, if you looked hard enough. An intense look, an unashamed look of longing, of love.

He had got so used to seeing it in her look that he hadn't realised that it wasn't there any longer. And however hard he tried to think, he couldn't remember when it had disappeared. He only knew it had been gradual, a long time coming.

And now it was directed at someone else, at Warrick. Someone Sara had once described sarcastically as his "favourite CSI". 

A complete surprise to him. And yet, thinking back, he didn't think it should be. They had worked together for years, a bond developing between them. Maybe it was his fault? He had pushed them into working together. At first, because he wanted them to get past their simultaneous hate for each other. Then more because it was easier not to work with Sara. Because he knew what Sara felt. And he knew what he felt. And he thought that he had known what he wanted for them.

It seemed cliché; he had stayed away because that was what was best for them. It had to be. When she had asked him out, taken the bull by the horns as it were, he had turned her down. Because how could they ever have a relationship?

Now that decision seemed too hasty. Too hasty, after pushing her away for so many years. But now that look was directed elsewhere, at someone else, and Grissom missed it. Missed having the option. Because he did love her. He just never had the words to tell her that.

And Sara had been good to her word. She hadn't waited around. He had figured it out, but it had been too late. Sara had moved on. And now it was too late for him.

The difference between the look Sara had in her eyes when she had looked at him, and the look in her eyes now, was that it was reflected in Warrick's. He had been careful, never to show, never to feel. But what he had felt, deep inside, was there on show, for the world to see, in Warrick's look. It wasn't hidden away, something to be ashamed of.

Grissom reached out, the drawing pin going skittering across the floor as he pulled the photo off the wall. He looked at it one last time before ripping the photo in two, crushing the two halves in his fist. But destroying the photo didn't stop the image in his mind. Or stop the realisation that he had waited too long for the one thing he wanted.


	2. why couldn't you see it in me

Picture Perfect (2/2)

By Ria

www.csichaostheory.co.uk

Even watching from the doorway, her eyes were drawn to the picture. She had seen it earlier; Greg had waved it in front of her nose when he had first printed it off, using the lab resources of course. She had no idea that Greg had been lurking near by, had snapped the picture, capturing a moment when they had been in serious discussion about some point on a case or other. A perfectly innocent photo, she had thought with relief, knowing what the gossip mongers would say otherwise. They looked absorbed in work. The photo hid the fact that Warrick's hand lay on her thigh, that after they had closed the case, they had left together, the looks turning far less serious.

She couldn't understand, therefore, why he had been standing there for so long looking at it. What did he see in it that had captured his attention for so long? A while back, Sara would have hoped that it was her. She had given up on that dream a long time ago.

Without warning, Grissom suddenly reached out, ripping the photo from its pin, staring at it for a moment longer before he tore it in two.

Sara was shocked at the sudden violence at the movement, unprepared as he spun around, stopping short when he saw her standing at the doorway.

For a moment, they were both silent, looking at each other. At one time, Sara had thought she could see everything in Grissom's eyes. Now they held no clue as to the sudden burst of anger.

'It's just a picture.' She tried, keeping her tone light, trying to make a joke about it.

He didn't smile. 'Just a picture.' He echoed, the offending pieces now smashed in his fist.

Sara sighed, stepping into the room, closing the door behind her. 'You have no right to be angry.' She said, feeling her own anger rise. Of course Grissom would see it. Grissom knew her well, after all.

'Don't I? You should have told me.'

'Why Grissom? Why should I have told you anything?'

If she was surprised at what he had deduced from the picture, she didn't show it. Then again, they had always been able to read each other. Grissom saw the picture in his mind eye again, felt the jealousy rise up again. 'I thought…'

'What, Grissom, that we had something? That I would wait around for you forever? I did tell you.'

Even in her anger, Grissom thought she was beautiful. He would always think of her as beautiful. 'I didn't realise that it had an expiry date.' He tried for his own humour, trying to lighten the situation.

It failed.

She turned on her heel, her hand going for the door handle.

'Wait, Sara. Can't we talk about this?'

It got her to stop at the door. It even got her to turn around. He wasn't expecting the small smile she had as she looked up at him. 'That's all I've ever wanted to do.' She said, smiling at the irony of the situation.

'What if… what if…I told you I liked you?'

The smile almost turned into a stunned laugh. It faded quickly, the look turning serious. 'It doesn't mean anything. Not from you. Not anymore.'

He tried to interrupt, but she talked over him. 'You had every chance, and you didn't want it. You think you want it now because suddenly you realise that you can't have it. You made the choice, Gris, a long time ago.'

He was shaking his head. Sara looked at him in disbelief. 'I waited, Gris. I waited longer than I should have. I loved you, but that's it. Loved; it's in the past. I said I wouldn't wait forever, and I meant it. I don't love you anymore, I haven't for a long time. It just took a while to realise it. I love someone else, someone who loves me back, that actually wants to be with me. And if you don't like it? Tough. You chose your career over me. This is how it is.'

'I'm sorry.' He tried.

'Sorry for what? I'm not. I'm happy, Gris, don't take that away from me.'

'I'm sorry I could never be what you wanted me to be.'

'You were who I wanted. It was me that wasn't what you wanted; you made that perfectly clear.'

'But I did, want you. I just couldn't-'

'It doesn't matter anymore.' She interrupted. 'It's in the past, or at least it is for me. Warrick's good for me, he makes me happy. And I love him. Maybe more than I loved you because I don't have to wonder all the time what he feels for me. I've got to go.' She turned to leave yet again.

Grissom seeing his final chance leaving shouted for her. 'Wait, Sara.'

She turned once again, but Grissom knew that it would be the last time. But he had to know.

'One question.'

She didn't turn to leave so he carried on.

'Could it have been different? If I hadn't waited?'

'No, Gris.' She answered, finality in her voice, a sad smile on her lips. 'Because you would have always waited.' She slowly turned, opened the door, shutting it behind her with a quiet bang.

And as he watched her leave, Grissom knew that she was right. He looked down at the two pieces of photo in his hand, smoothing them out. He knew she was right, that it was better this way. But as he looked down at the two halves at the photo, he couldn't help wishing that it wasn't.


End file.
